


Bad night

by Patatarte



Series: The CowCrew ship fest [10]
Category: Cow Chop
Genre: Blood, Burning people, FakeChop, Happy Ending tho, Homophobia, M/M, Violence, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 22:49:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16774477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patatarte/pseuds/Patatarte
Summary: Aleks came home, late. He tried to make as little noise as possible, not turning the lights on, taking off his shoes carefully. He took every caution he could to not wake Brett, taking extra seconds to put his car keys in the bowl next to the door. Unlucky for him, Brett wasn’t even asleep, but not only that : he waited for him.





	Bad night

**Author's Note:**

> hundarhd prompt : "what the hell happened to your face",  
> that took a dark turn, I'm sorry

Aleks came home, late. He tried to make as little noise as possible, not turning the lights on, taking off his shoes carefully. He took every caution he could to not wake Brett, taking extra seconds to put his car keys in the bowl next to the door. Unlucky for him, Brett wasn’t even asleep, but not only that : he waited for him.

Brett clears his voice, the lamp next to him lighting up. He is sitting on a big chair, legs crossed, clearly not trying to look like one of those mysterious peoples from action movies. At first, Brett was pissed off, his muscles tense. He wanted to stay on his chair but his nerves got the best of him and he stands a bit too violently, not giving Aleks any time to do or say anything.

“I called you a thousand times, where the fuck were you ? I thought the police or a gang got you-” His voice dies out when Aleks faces him, avoiding his eyes. Well, the only eye he can see out of, the other is fucked up behind bloated flesh. “What the hell happened to your face ?” 

Brett tries not to let his emotions spill out of his mouth, but there’s dread in the pit of his stomach. He takes quick steps until he’s overwhelmingly close to Aleks. Aleks is holding his side, weakly, his left eye is puffy red with dried and fresh blood all over it, his bottom lip is bruised and also has dried blood around it.

“What happened, Aleks ?” Brett is careful with his words, because you never know what happened and how the other will react to some of them.

Aleks lets out a small laugh, really quick, followed by a hiss as he holds his side a bit tighter. Brett moves a little to give him space and a way to get to the couch himself. That’s only when Aleks limps that Brett also realizes that he’s not wearing the same clothes he had when he left, and that he smells like smoke. He waits for Aleks to tell something, anything.

And he does, eventually, after minutes of silence and deep breath.

“Want to know what happened, huh ?” Aleks says, with that attitude that gets him into troubles. “I’m going to tell you a story, then.” He turns off the light, and for a couple of seconds it’s dark, before the street’s lights pick up with a faint glow in between the blinds. “I met Criken, you know, for infos. And I got them, it was all nice, and then his friends came and I decided to head back to you.” He sighs, touching his fucked up eye and hissing again. “I guess some idiots thought I was gay and having a date or something, because they followed me outside.”

Brett can already tell what happened, and he already hates everything that Aleks will say about it. But he lets him talk, makes a simple sign of his hand telling him to continue as he walks away to the small bathroom next to the living room to get the med kit. Aleks keeps talking with a monotonous voice, as if he wasn’t assaulted in the streets of L.A earlier this night.

The story takes another turn that Brett thinks was for the best, because Aleks is detailing how he killed three people. He had no gun on him, but he had his knife and, at some point, he used it to save his life. He details with such a strange detached calm how he gutted them, how he called Criken back and how they got rid of the bodies in the desert, burning them.

He barely flinches when Brett applies a cotton on his eye and lip, too deep in his memories to care for the moment. Brett lets him talk, doesn’t make any sound, just listen as he takes care of the wounds. Aleks doesn’t even stop talking when he takes his jacket and shirt off for Brett to look at a bruise on his chest. The kicks in the ribs could have been worse, he’s lucky.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I really...It was supposed to be an easy night, getting infos and coming back to you, cuddles and that’s it, a simple night.”

“It’s okay, buddy.” Brett pets his hair and Aleks moves away like he got struck by electricity. “Hey, what’s going on?” he keeps his voice low and slow.

Aleks laughs, pained, before getting lax on the couch again. He puts his hand on Brett’s one, laces their fingers, squeezing gently. He doesn’t want to talk more but Brett is okay with it, he understands. At some point they will, tonight might be too fresh. Aleks just doesn’t want to say that this touch he loves so much from Brett got tainted by some assholes doing that to him before his friend tried to strangle him from behind.

“Take me to bed, please,” Aleks almost begs, with a voice so soft that Brett is already waiting for tears to follow.

They don’t, but Brett stands, takes Aleks in his arms with extra care, so gently, carrying him to the bedroom where a really sleepy dog and cat already wait. Aleks will heal, he will go on, he always does. Brett just knows that if Aleks didn’t kill the guys himself, he’d have done much worse to them.


End file.
